The Untold Tale of Takahashi Takahiro
by Ika289
Summary: So, we all know Hiroki was in love with Akihiko, who in turn was in love with Takahiro...but did anyone ever consider that the elder Takahashi had some unrequited feelings of his own? The answer may surprise you. Look out for mixed up canon elements and a few cameos!
1. The Favor

**A/N: **

**Hello! I'm going back through these chapters and posting my author's notes. I have another account on yff which included these from the beginning, and I apologize for not including them earlier here. So, here they are, and thank you for the wonderful reviews so far :D**

**Alrighty, a long author's note for a short chapter. Consider this my introduction, because this is my first (real) fanfiction!**

Here's the good news about me—the whole story is written! It had to be before I could even think about posting it. I have a very scrambled brain, so I write everything out of order (in case you're interested, this fic was penned as follows: chapters 1, 2, 13, 12, 14, 3, 10, 11, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 4). However, I'll be posting it one chapter at a time, because I might tinker around with a few things as I read your feedback. Plus, I've got to get you hooked and leech reviews out of you somehow, right?

I have a rather plain writing style, but everything I say usually has a purpose. Please stick with me through all the grammer and spelling errors (gotcha! It's grammar, I know), because I haven't got any formal training in writing, just a voracious love of reading. I can promise that chapters 12 and 13 are the best. At one point, I actually had considered posting the story backwards so they would come sooner!

So, this story is inspired by some real life events (in which I play Hiroki), and I say 'inspired by' because the ending actually turned out quite different. (You'll have to PM me if you want to know how that turned out. In my opinion, it's even more interesting.)

This is my attempt to give a little background on Takahashi Takahiro, Misaki's older brother whom Akihiko was in love with for some ungodly amount of time. He's often portrayed as kind of a bumbling simpleton, but I'd like to think there's a little more going on behind the scenes. That being said, I made an effort to keep him (and everyone else) in character, though it was very, very tempting to give Takahiro a sassy, slutty bisexual alter ego. So, so tempting. Sigh.

This takes place in kind of an AU? I maintain that this could TOTALLY HAVE HAPPENED without changing any of Nakamura's original storyline. Also, keep your eyes peeled for lots of mixed up canon elements! I'll be writing from a narrator's perspective but taking turns following different characters, mainly Takahiro and Hiroki. I probably should have thrown an Akihiko chapter in there, but he reminds me way, way too much of someone from my past who I'd rather forget, so I won't be going near his perspective with a 10 foot pole.

Rated M for language, but no lemon or anything (Hey now, I didn't say no one's getting any action. But I get ahead of myself...)

Now, back in time to the spring of Akihiko/Hiroki/Takahiro's final year of high school...  
Enjoy!  
ika

Chapter 1: The Favor

"Hiroki, I need a favor."

Hiroki rolled his eyes adding a "hmmph!" as he realized this physical gesture of frustration would go unnoticed over the phone. He needn't have bothered—Akihiko had known his old friend for so long, by now, he could feel the eye roll without even having to look at him.

"I've never heard that one before," Hiroki complained. "I'm hanging up."

There was silence on both ends of the line.

"I thought you were going to hang up," Akihiko stated plainly.

"You would only have called me back and picking up the phone again would have been an inconvenience," Hiroki grumbled. Ugh, was that really the best he could do? "Spit it out already!" he added, making sure to infuse his voice with an extra dose of growl.

"I need you to talk to Takahiro..." Akihiko began.

"What!" Hiroki spluttered. "I really am hanging up!"

"Wait!" Akihiko cried, sensing his friend was serious this time.

The petition in Akihiko's voice was enough to give Hiroki pause.

"Why?" he asked warily.

"I need a second opinion, and there's no one I trust more than you," Akihiko said. He knew by now that a good combination of flattery and patience was enough to wheedle nearly anything out of his childhood friend. He took Hiroki's silence as permission to continue. "To be completely honest, I can't tell if Takahiro is straight or not. This whole 'being nice' concept is completely arcane to me. What's his motivation?"

"...And how exactly am I supposed to help?" Hiroki asked in an icy monotone.

"Well, you're gay..."

"Tell me something I don't know!" Hiroki snapped.

"Look, all you have to do is casually run into him at my house and talk to him for five minutes, ok! That should be plenty for your self-proclaimed 'flawless gaydar' to work its magic," Akihiko said impatiently. He took a deep breath and continued in a cool, collected, logical tone. "Actually, you'll probably enjoy each other's company. There's not many people who can tolerate me, so I'm sure he'll be able to tolerate you," he chuckled self deprecatingly. "You'll play nice, right? What do you say, Hiroki?" He paused to listen for the answer. "Hiroki? HIROKI!"

Hiroki had hung up.

**A/N: Let me know how you like it so far, and the next chapter will be up soon!**


	2. A Casual Run in with the Devil

**A/N: I just realized I probably didn't make this clear in my story notes...I don't want to give away the ending or anything, but I am NOT shipping takahiro and hiroki!**

Chapter 2: A Casual Run in with the Devil

Takahiro never failed to feel a little nervous as he stood in front of the Usami estate, despite the fact that he had visited over half a dozen times already. There was something about the house—Takahiro couldn't quite put his finger on it, but for some reason he shivered when he passed the large, wrought iron gates. He could understand why it had taken several months of meeting up in various parts of the city before Usagi had extended an invitation to come to his home. The Usagi he had met in school was friendly and bright, if not perhaps a bit shy, which didn't reconcile well with the troubled, pensive character that emerged as soon as he crossed the threshold.

"Waah!"

Takahiro's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud yell. He hurried past the gates and followed the sound of the voice, which had been coming from just over the hedge.

"Get off me you dumb mutt!"

As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a teenage boy holding a book in front of him like a shield, a futile gesture against the giant, excited Afghan hound that was running in circles around him, jumping up and attempting to lick his face.

"Goddamit Alexander, I mean it!"

Takahiro rushed up to help, calling "here boy!" in the most chipper tone of voice he could muster. Alexander immediately shifted his attentions to the rock Takahiro had hastily picked up and chucked across the yard (the Usami lawn was meticulously free of sticks). Takahiro turned and addressed the panting, book-holding boy in front of him.

"Are you ok?" he asked sincerely.

The boy had been staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, but upon hearing this, a blush covered his cheeks immediately, and his eyes shifted to the side. "Play nice," the boy muttered under his breath.

_Play nice? He must be talking about the dog, _Takahiro thought, waiting patiently while the boy composed himself.

"I'm ok, thank you," the teen said while delicately dusting himself off, a look of pure disgust on his face. He slowly relaxed his shoulders and gave a short, barking laugh. "Thanks for not laughing at me. That's all Akihiko does when his damn dog attacks me."

"Oh I'd never laugh at you," Takahiro said immediately. "What if you were really terrified of dogs? Alexander sure does seem to like you, though!"

"I can't understand why," the boy grumbled. He had shifted the book to the crook of his right arm, and began leading the way to the house. Takahiro fell into step beside him. "For some reason dogs seem to adore me. Every one I meet wants to follow me around."

"Maybe it's because you don't like them?" Takahiro suggested. "I think I heard they are often attracted to an aloof attitude."

"I think that's cats," the boy said wryly, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"You're probably right," Takahiro conceded. "By the way, I'm Takahashi Takahiro. Please call me Takahiro!"

"Kamijou Hiroki," the boy offered. His grip tightened on the book he was holding until his knuckles turned white. "Hiroki is fine," he said through clenched teeth.

"Ok, Hiroki-san," Takahiro smiled at him, intentionally leaving on the title. He got the impression Hiroki was forcing himself to talk to him, so he continued on without speaking, eyes studying his shoes as he walked. He was surprised to hear a throat clear beside him.

"Do you...er...like animals?" Hiroki asked.

"I do!" Takahiro said, feeling nervous, but pleasantly surprised the other boy had continued the conversation. He felt he should offer up more information. "I don't have any pets though. Just a little brother. How about you...no dogs, I take it?"

"I'm far too busy to have a pet," Hiroki scoffed.

"Maybe it would do you some good," Takahiro offered.

"Hmmph!" Hiroki snorted. "I doubt that."

Takahiro was just wondering why Alexander hadn't come bounding back to play when they turned around yet another hedge (it was definitely possible to get lost in the maze of the front yard; this had happened the first time he visited) and saw the butler, Tanaka, standing at the doorway. Alexander was seated at his feet, the picture of good behavior. His tail thumped a little harder as Hiroki approached and eyed him menacingly, but he stayed seated in the presence of the butler.

"Welcome," Tanaka said. Hiroki already had shrugged out of his coat and was handing it over, while Takahiro had to be prompted politely (he could never get used to having a butler, he privately thought). "Akihiko-sama will be right down. You can wait in the sitting room if you'd like."

The boys followed him into the front parlor and sat down on opposite couches. Takahiro turned to face Hiroki, intent on asking him another question in the interest of polite conversation, which he excelled at, but stopped short. It had been very bright outside and Takahiro had been mainly focused on watching his feet so he didn't trip (his recent growth spurt had left him rather clumsy), so he hadn't had a chance to look Hiroki in the face properly. Only now did he realize he recognized him—he attended a different school, but he'd seen him once before at Usagi's house. Indeed, he was impossible to forget.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The second time Takahiro had come over, Tanaka had just let him into the entrance when he looked up to see a truly terrifying image—a teenage boy striding down the hallway, in such a visible state of wrath it was as though the flames of hell followed in his wake, licking at the walls of the corridor. He had swung his head around, sparks practically flying from his long hair as it swished, and looked Takahiro in the eyes only briefly as he passed before slamming the door shut behind him. If looks could kill, than Takahiro was quite sure he would have be burnt to a crisp.

Takahiro, utterly paralyzed with fear, had stayed motionless in the hallway (he realized Tanaka was also frozen beside him) until Usagi had meandered down the hallway, looking royally pissed off before apologizing cordially to Takahiro and continuing on as though nothing had happened.

"Umm...Usagi-chan...who was that?" Takahiro had asked timidly.

"Oh, Hiroki? He's my neighbor. We were just discussing a book," he said mildly. "Why?"

_I'm never reading again_, Takahiro had thought to himself. "Oh, you both seemed kind of upset," he answered.

"Upset? Ha! That was Hiroki in a good mood!" Usagi had laughed, and Takahiro laughed too, delighted that his friend had displayed any emotion at all here, as opposed to the gloomy, lifeless being that usually possessed his body while inside the gates.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Now, sitting across the coffee table and properly looking at him, Takahiro was completely speechless. He was reminded of the first thought he'd had when he looked at him, _if looks could kill_, and realized what a double edged sword that saying was—because seriously, Hiroki was the most good-looking person he had ever laid eyes on. His clothes hinted at a lean, muscular body. His elegantly shaggy hair swept across his forehead and brushed his cheekbones, and the clear, delicate skin of his face slid across a truly incredibly bone structure. He had a rather unusual hair and eye color—all red brown, like smoldering wood. He had the kind of looks that would turn heads in a crowd.

"What?" Hiroki snapped, eyeing him suspiciously and forgetting himself for a moment. At the terrified look that flashed across Takahiro's face, he relented. "I mean...errr...what are your plans with Akihiko today?" Takahiro considered saying he was just about to leave, but Hiroki continued speaking. "I'm only here to return this book—it's his own damn fault it's now covered in dog slobber—then I have to go practice piano."

In spite of his better judgment, Takahiro's lips twitched into a smile as he remembered the image of Hiroki holding the book up like a shield.

"We were going for a walk around the lake," he said. "Won't you come with us, and practice later, Hiroki-san?" he offered. The words had spilled out of his mouth before he'd known what he was saying. He found Hiroki incredibly intimidating, and somehow, he desperately wanted to impress him.

"You want me to come?" Hiroki asked, not bothering to mask the disbelief in his voice. Takahiro nodded nervously. "Er... ok, I guess so," Hiroki said, baffled, then offered him a rather forced smile that seemed more like a leer on his handsome face.

**A/N: Though he may try and pretend otherwise, Hiroki actually does like dogs (cue Nowaki bounding across the park). Can't fool us, Hiro-san :D**


	3. The Verdict

Chapter 3: The Verdict

"Well? Do you have an opinion?" Akihiko asked, gazing over the rim of his china teacup, long legs crossed at the knee. It was a rhetorical question. Hiroki always had an opinion.

"He's very...nice," Hiroki answered dryly, arms folded over his chest.

Akihiko raised an eyebrow and Hiroki sighed.

"I'm going to be honest. He seems a little gay."

"Hiroki, you think _everyone_ is a little gay."

Hiroki gave his signature barking laugh.

"Gay, or they will be after you're through with them," he retorted.

Akihiko tssked his disapproval, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs the other way, then regally sipped his tea.

"Fine, fine," Hiroki relented. "I take it back. He might _seem_ a little gay to me, but chances are, he's not. The best you can hope for is to wait for a good, old-fashioned break up, feed him a few beers, and pounce when he's weak. He'll make out with you once and then regret it and feel ashamed the next day. Is that really what you want, Akihiko?"

Akihiko said nothing, not wanting to admit the scenario held a certain appeal.

"I don't particularly think he has an agenda, it's possible that he really just is a nice person," Hiroki mused. "Absolutely _novel_ idea, I know."

Hiroki watched his friend's reaction. Akihiko still remained silent, but something about his bright white aura dimmed perceptibly. Hiroki felt his heart clench, and suddenly felt guilty for speaking so candidly. He cast around for something that might lighten the mood.

"I don't think everyone is 'a little gay,'" he grumbled, "but I stand by what I said about your brother's friend Isaka." He shuddered involuntarily as he picked up his own cup of tea, making it rattle in the saucer. "That kid is a _flaming homo_."


	4. The Price of a Paradox

**A/N: I know I said I wasn't going to do an Akihiko chapter, but the story just didn't seem right without one, even if it's brief. Here's my best effort.**

Chapter 4: The Price of a Paradox

Despite his bold claim that he was sure Hiroki and Takahiro would get along just fine, Akihiko had been anything but certain of how their meeting would go.

Hiroki was kind of an asshole, and Takahiro was probably the nicest person on the planet.

He'd wanted Hiroki's opinion on the Takahiro issue for a few reasons, the main one being that he had shamefully terrible gaydar for someone so—well, so gay.

The second reason was that, deep down, he'd wanted Hiroki's approval.

When they had first met, long ago in the woods, Akihiko had just finished convincing himself that he didn't need the company of humans and didn't need anyone to understand him. He detested his life and everyone in it, but there was no need to be dramatic—a pen and paper were all he needed to purge his rampant loneliness.

Then Hiroki had stepped onto the scene. Akihiko had been at a time in his life where virtually no relationship followed the normal pattern it should have, so he didn't quite know how to act around his new neighbor. Hiroki pissed him off with his hysterics over the most trivial things, but with all the dramatics came quiet, simple moments of companionship and understanding.

Akihiko had come to both love and hate Hiroki at the same time, and while he felt a certain amount of attraction to the other boy, he was clever enough to realize that it wouldn't work. They often brought out the best in each other, so it was occasionally tempting to think of their relationship as something more than friends. However, they also brought out the worst. Akihiko knew he would eternally be frustrated by this paradox, so he let it go. He'd assumed that Hiroki had come to the same conclusions.

Regardless, Akihiko cared very much about his neighbor's opinions. That was the real reason why he'd wanted Hiroki to meet the one boy who brought out the very best in him—Takahiro.

Predictably, Takahiro had been nothing but courteous and kind during their walk around the lake, asking Hiroki all the right questions and listening intently to his responses.

Akihiko had been nothing short of shocked, however, when Hiroki had responded in kind. True to his nature, he'd still been kind of an asshole, but it was very subtly different—there was a challenging, flirtatious undertone to his snipes. Akihiko obviously would have been irked at his friend, but he knew that this was the unintentional product of Hiroki genuinely attempting to be nice, and it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. At this point, it was such an ingrained part of Hiroki's behavior that he highly doubted his friend even noticed he was doing it.

Akihiko was about to roll his eyes in exasperation, when suddenly, an alarming thought occurred to him. He'd seen many a straighter man drawn in by Hiroki's rare looks and clever tongue like a moth to a flame...was Takahiro in danger?

He thought about Takahiro's good-natured smile. No, Hiroki was probably right. He really was just a nice person.

**A/N: Get ready for some more Hiroki angst in the next chapter!**


	5. The Mental Breakdown

**A/N: This chapter was so, so painful to write :/**

Chapter 5: The Mental Breakdown

Hiroki was having a mental break down (again).

This time, it was not because of an overextended schedule—he had started cutting the extra bullshit out of his life a long time ago, because it was getting in the way of his reading. No, this time, he was distressed about something that many, many seventeen year olds face at this point in their lives—college.

The problem wasn't that he hadn't gotten into the school he wanted (he had been accepted everywhere. Obviously.) It was that he was now faced with the choice of which program to commit to at T University (the top school.) His heart was in literature, and he knew he was smart and dedicated, so while he was not surprised to be accepted, he had been delighted to receive a letter from a member of the Japanese department's faculty. The professor congratulated him on his acceptance and complimented his application essays, extending an invitation to visit before the start of the semester. He had eagerly informed his parents over dinner of this correspondence, and his intentions to write back.

Unfortunately, there was one small problem. His father had flat out refused to fund his schooling if he was going to spend four years "being a bookworm," and had offered him an ultimatum: take the pre-law track, or be cut off.

Hiroki had known deep down for a long time that the split was coming, one way or another. Though he had no plans to come out to his parents anytime before hell froze over, he was always uneasily conscious of the fact that anything can happen. He had been mentally preparing himself for some time to deal with the fact that, if they were to discover the truth about his sexuality, odds are that he would not be welcome in his own house anymore. After much thought, he decided he would use this opportunity as an excuse to cut ties in a civilized manor while he still could. He was an adult, and if he was going to leave the nest, he might as well do it right.

That being said, the prospect of upsetting his family with his decision did not make it any easier. He genuinely loved his parents, in spite of their different worldviews. After some long thought, he had hardened his resolve, and informed his father of his plan to pursue literature. He had reacted in cold disappointment, and they made plans to negotiate a move-out date after high school graduation. The clock was now ticking.

Hiroki had immediately sought out Akihiko, sure that his old friend was going through the exact same thing. However, while the aspiring novelist had indeed been faced with a similar choice, Hiroki was nothing less than shocked to hear that the other boy had agreed to study law.

"I mean, why not? I'd only be bored for four years otherwise," Akihiko had drawled, half joking, not realizing the enormity of the situation Hiroki was in because he had not yet explained it. "It's not like they can teach me anything I don't know."

That was the final straw.

That's why, even though he had promised himself it would never, ever happen again, and he hated himself a little bit while he was doing it, Hiroki was once again crying in front of a stunned Akihiko.

He turned his back towards his friend and stared out the window of Akihiko's bedroom, trying to hide the tears in his eyes while also knowing it would only be a moment before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him around again and asking what was wrong.

"Hiroki," he heard Akihiro's voice say, and even though Hiroki's eyes were squeezed shut in embarrassment, he could feel Akihiko's cool hands stroke his hair soothingly. He tentatively cracked an eye open and found Akihiko's face only a foot from his, eyes concerned and genuine.

_So close, _Hiroki thought. _Do it—you've done it once before—_

He didn't realize he had been closing the distance between them until he felt Akihiko's body shift slightly, leaning back, and his eyes cast down uncomfortably.

"Hiroki," Akihiko repeated, but this time his voice held a tone of warning.

Hiroki flinched as though Akihiko had reached out and struck him across the cheek.

He turned and fled, and Akihiko made no move to stop him. He ran down the hallway and breezed past Tanaka, leaping down the steps two at a time, flying outside and through the grounds. The long green hedges became a blur as he ran. Realizing his exit had been a little melodramatic only made him more furious with himself. Overcome with self-loathing, he collapsed as soon as he made it through the front gate.

Hiroki was truly crying now—not the frustrated tears of an overexerted, adolescent boy, but uncontrollable, hiccupping sobs that tore from his chest. In his mind, Hiroki was punishing himself for his disgusting display of neediness. He mentally pushed himself to the ground, his brain screaming, _You're pathetic! You're getting what you deserve!_

In spite of his mental beating, Hiroki knew that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was still glutton for punishment. Though the denial on Akihiko's face had been all too evident, Hiroki could not help but be drawn by the memory the other boy initiating their first kiss. He was sure, _sure_, that if it happened again, Akihiko would realize what _had_ to be his own true feelings. After all, they were best friends, weren't they? Together they bonded over shared passions, delighted in arguments, and been comforted by the unspoken ties of a lonely childhood spent together. Could their perceptions of their relationship really be that different? What about him wasn't good enough?

As his crying slowed, Hiroki came to a very sad realization. This thing—this unrequited love—was going to consume years of his life.

A twig snapped.

_No,_ Hiroki thought, his whole body filling with dread.

He looked up to see Takahiro standing there with his backpack on, watching Hiroki's tears with an expression of compassion on his face.

For he first time in his life, Hiroki didn't feel irritated, defensive, or angry. He didn't have the energy to snap or growl or snarl. He just felt exhausted. He could only meet Takahiro's eyes with a blank, empty expression. The fire had finally burned out.

**A/N: So there you go... a nice cliffhanger.**

**If there's any egoist fans out there reading, I'd really love to hear from you on this chapter. I'm most comfortable writing from Hiroki's perspective, but in this particular instance it was quite difficult to write because I don't like revisiting Hiroki during this time in his life. things weren't so easy for our friend back then :/**

**This is also the last chapter that will be from Hiroki or Akihiko's side of things...from here on out, it's very much Takahiro taking over. I know he's not everyone's favorite, but please give him a chance. I hope to change your mind!**


	6. An Unforeseen Ally

Chapter 6: An Unforeseen Ally

Takahiro had heard the teen crying before he had seen him.

He had been on his way to Usagi's house to do homework when he was distracted by the most beautiful sakura tree that had just bloomed on the side of the street. He had eagerly stepped off the road and waded into the grass to inspect it closer. Takahiro was very fond of plants and animals, but in the area where he lived, wildflowers were few and far between. He always took his time on the walk to the Usami estate, also delaying the moment he would have to cross through the dreaded gates.

His body had thus been concealed behind said tree when Hiroki came running up and threw his bag down, sitting heavily on a rock and proceeding to cry his heart out. Takahiro had grappled with what to do for a moment—on the one hand, he knew it was incredibly rude not to make his presence known, and on the other, he wanted to give the boy a moment of privacy and spare him any embarrassment.

His resolve wavered as he heard the pain in Hiroki's sobs, his own heart cracking with empathy, and he stepped out into the road, determined to offer to do what he could.

He had recognized the sound of other teen's voice as he cried, and expected that his interruption would reawaken the demon he had witnessed the very first day he saw him, aglow with the fires of pride and intelligence. But the eyes that met his now were unrecognizable, like peering into a cold hearth. Takahiro was a little surprised when he realized he found Hiroki's vulnerability inexplicably beautiful.

Takahiro's heart broke and his caring instincts took over, leading him to kneel in front of Hiroki and clasp the other teen on the shoulders tightly.

"Hiroki-san, what happened?" he asked urgently.

Hiroki didn't answer right away.

"Please, you can tell my anything," Takahiro insisted. "No need to bottle it up!"

Hiroki considered his options. In truth, he knew his emotions were written all over his face—it would be pointless to deny them—and he was in desperate need, in that moment, of a confidant. Takahiro was simply in the right place, at the right time.

"I'm in love with Akihiko," Hiroki said. "But he doesn't love me back." Hiroki cringed at the taste of such direct words on his tongue.

Takahiro's facial expression changed to one of shock, though the sympathy was still there, etched into every line of his body.

"Oh!" he said, not quite knowing how to respond.

Hiroki took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry—does it weird you out a little?" he asked.

Takahiro gave him a heartfelt smile.

"I suppose not," he replied after a moment. "You don't get to choose how you feel, after all. But I have to confess, I've never known anyone gay before, Hiroki-san!" he laughed encouragingly.

Try as he might, Hiroki couldn't help but crack a smile at that last part.

After Takahiro had picked Hiroki up, brushed him off, and sent him on his way, he continued his walk to the Usami estate, mulling over the unexpected turn of events. In truth, Hiroki's confession _had_ made him feel a little weird—just, not a bad weird. _Hiroki's in love with Akihiko,_ he repeated several times in his head, willing himself to get used to the idea. The weird feeling wouldn't go away. _Oh well, _he thought, _it's normal to give it few moments to sink in._ His mind wandered to the memory of Hiroki's eyes as he locked gazes with him again when they parted ways. A new spark had flickered across what had been an ashy, dead grate. Takahiro felt himself swell with happiness, knowing he had some hand in accomplishing that. Before they split, he had assured Hiroki that he wouldn't mention any of this to Usagi. Takahiro always kept his word.

It had only taken Hiroki until the time he got home for the full weight of what had transpired to hit him.

_Shit! Shit! _He thought, ignoring his mother's greeting and racing up the stairs to wash his face. He was just going to have to pretend it never happened. What else could he do?

And just like that, Hiroki flipped through the mental diary he kept, ripped out the pages pertaining to the whole afternoon, and threw them in the fire.


	7. The Crush

**A/N: Fair warning...we all know what's headed Takahiro's way around this point :/**

Chapter 7: Crush

Takahiro had been a giddy, excited mess all week.

The first reason was that he had received an acceptance letter to his top choice, M University, which felt all the more rewarding because he hadn't been confident that his application was up to snuff (he suspected that without Usagi's help studying for the placement exams, it might not have been).

The second reason was that, after Takahiro's run in with a tearful Hiroki outside the Usami estate, he hadn't quite been able to shake that weird feeling, and it was making his thoughts jittery and disorganized.

At first, he had thought it was just a reaction to learning that the other teen was gay, and in love with his best friend. It set him thinking about things he had never considered before. He spent many hours mulling over it, expecting that the weird feeling would slowly normalize, but instead, he found the opposite happening. He couldn't seem to get the image Hiroki out of his head—except now, the image was doing some pretty indecent things.

By the end of the week, there was no denying it. Takahiro definitely had a crush on Hiroki.

He had found Hiroki intimidating and attractive from the first moment he laid eyes on him, but this in and of itself wasn't that strange for a mere first impression. Once he actually talked to Hiroki, he found his snappy sarcasm refreshing, and enjoyed his company. (People usually felt the need to be very nice and polite to Takahiro because he was a nice, polite person, but in truth, a nice, polite conversation often gets a little boring). However, it wasn't until he saw Hiroki crying that Takahiro was truly a goner. It was an unfortunate truth that he was attracted to angst (Usagi's piercing, tormented stories had been irresistible). He was also fascinated by the contradiction of Hiroki's ferocity and vulnerability. By extending a helping hand, Takahiro had instantly fallen victim to his own impulses.

However, while Takahiro was certain that he was developing feelings for Hiroki, he felt just as sure that they were not exclusive.

He was all too aware of the girls in his classes (though goodness knows he was too courteous to ever say anything), and it was just this tendency to look a girl in the face as opposed to anywhere else that had practically every female in his school vying for his affections (including a few teachers). He hadn't pursued anything because of a lack of interest, but more because he was overwhelmed with choice at the moment.

These thoughts all co-habited Takahiro's mind surprisingly comfortably, and so, as with everything else, Takahiro chose to simply go with the flow.

All in all, it was a pretty good week, and the warmth of spring in the air only heightened his cheerful mood.

Mind abuzz with all kinds of exciting thoughts and plans for the future, Takahiro hummed as he opened the cupboard, extracting various pots and pans in preparation for dinner.

"Oniichan, what are you making?"

"Hi kiddo!" Takahiro said, turning to his younger brother with an armful of food clutched to his chest. He hip-checked the refrigerator door closed. "I was going to make a rice omelet tonight. Sound good?"

"Yum!" Misaki answered, sneezing once before he clambered onto the stool next to the counter. His feet dangled just above the last rung. "Can I help?"

"Did you finish your homework?" Takahiro said sternly, peering over the top of his glasses and fixing his brother with a mock serious gaze.

Misaki gulped (he hadn't finished his homework).

Takahiro started laughing and broke into a huge smile.

"I'm only joking! Of course you can help...can you set the table for me?"

Misaki scrambled to get down from the stool at the same time he gave a violent sneeze, body shaking hard enough to lose his balance and slip off. Takahiro grabbed him at the last second and had been about to scold him for not being more careful when he noticed Misaki's flushed face and red-rimmed nose.

"Thanks oniichan," the boy said, sniffing loudly.

"Misaki, are you sick?" Takahiro asked.

"No, I'm fine," Misaki insisted, making a huge effort to brighten up.

"Don't lie to me...you have a fever, don't you!" Takahiro said, placing a hand on his little brother's forehead and feeling the heat radiating into his palm. He felt guilty that he hadn't noticed earlier. His parents had been out of town for the last few days, so Misaki had been under his care, but in truth, Takahiro had been so mentally elsewhere that he wasn't paying as much attention as usual to his younger sibling.

"Maybe," Misaki finally admitted, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, oniichan. I didn't want to trouble you."

"Misaki, go to bed and I'll bring you medicine, and some dinner when I'm finished cooking," Takahiro said firmly.

"But—"

"Now!" Takahiro admonished.

"Ok," Misaki said miserably, quietly entering his room and shutting the door partway. Takahiro could hear the dresser drawers open as his brother shuffled around for his pajamas.

Takahiro put the water on to boil, then went to check the top cupboard where he thought they kept the medicines. He scanned the shelf but didn't see any, so he decided to ring his mother.

"Hi okaachan," Takahiro said, phone propped between his shoulder and his ear while he used both hands to open various other cupboards. "Where do we keep the cold medication? I thought it was in the cupboard above the sink, but I can't find it anywhere."

"Hi Taka-chan...I keep all the medication bottles under the bathroom sink," his mother answered. "Are you feeling ill?"

"I think Misaki has a fever," Takahiro said, hurrying to the bathroom. "But it's ok, I have everything under control."

"I'm sure you do," she said, "but actually, I have good news. We finished up our work early and were planning on leaving tomorrow morning to surprise you, but I don't see any reason why we can't leave tonight instead."

"Oh," Takahiro said, feeling enormously relieved. Though he was certain he could take good care of his brother, in all truth he would be glad to get a second opinion. "It would be nice to see you. Let me see what Misaki thinks."

Takahiro crept up to the door and peered into his brother's room. Misaki was sitting placidly in bed, covers tucked up to his chin, reading a manga.

"Hi buddy," Takahiro said, entering without knocking as his hands were full with the medicine and a glass of water. He handed them to the boy and rescued the phone from his shoulder. "Want to talk to mom? She says her and dad are going to head back early!"

Misaki quickly gulped the water and the pills, sloshing a bit onto the cover in his haste to get his hands on the phone.

"Okaachan!" he said cheerfully, though Takahiro could hear the stuffy nose muffling his bright tone. "Mmmhmm..alright...I will. Hurry home, okay?" He handed the phone back to Takahiro.

"I'm gonna go finish dinner," Takahiro explained as he exited and made a beeline for the now boiling pot of water. "See you soon."

He spent the next thirty minutes cooking, his actions mechanical as he was lost in thought.

When the rice omelet was finally ready, he spooned some onto a plate for Misaki and walked to his room, bringing an extra apron to spread on the bed in case his brother spilled anything again. However, a quick peek through the door showed Misaki fast asleep, manga propped open on his chest, rising and falling with each breath.

"So cute," Takahiro whispered, setting the plate down on the nightstand as he gently removed the book, carefully marking his brother's place, and shut off the light. He picked the plate up again and exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

He sat down on the stool in the kitchen, feeling oddly lonely in the quiet house. He suddenly had an idea. He grabbed his phone again and dialed. The other line picked up on the second ring.

"Ah, Takahiro!" the voice on the phone purred.

"Usagi-chan!" Takahiro said. "Are you hungry? I just remembered your parents are out of town also, and I know you hate cooking. Misaki is sick and fell asleep before dinner, so now I have way too much food."

"How kind of you to think of me," Usagi answered. "I'm starving." (In truth, the cook had prepared dinner a half hour ago).

"Please come over," Takahiro said eagerly. "Would you mind? My parents are heading home, but they won't arrive for a while yet."

"I'd love to," Usagi answered. "Let's see how fast I can get there. I want to try and beat my previous time," he chuckled. Akihiko had just received a sports car from his grandfather as his early graduation gift.

"Drive safely," Takahiro reminded him responsibly. "I'll see you soon."

They hung up, and Takahiro stood, deciding to wash the dishes and tidy up a little before Usagi arrived. Not ten minutes later, he heard the buzzer for his apartment ring.

_That sure was fast,_ Takahiro thought as he buzzed Usagi up, not even bothering to check who it was. _That idiot. He definitely sped on the way here._

He heard a firm knock on the door. Takahiro hurried to open it, the rubber dishwashing gloves still on his hands, prepared to lecture his friend on obeying the rules of the road.

Instead, the door swung open to reveal two police officers.

"Takahashi-san?" one of them asked, removing his hat.

"Yes?" Takahiro said, as politely as he could while trying to ignore the terrible, terrible feeling that was rising quickly through his whole body.

"I'm sorry to tell you there's been an accident," the man said, his voice heavy. Takahiro's mind leapt to Usagi immediately, so the officer's next words still caught him completely off guard.

"Your parents are dead."

**A/N: There are all kinds of heartbreak in this world, but there is a huge, huge difference between an unrequited love and the death of a loved one. I have experienced both. That is the reason I will NOT be writing about this terrible part of the Takahashi's lives—the next chapter skips ahead some time, and after a few moments of reflection the story picks up again.**

**Please, reviews would mean the world to me :) so since we're halfway through the story at this point, I'd appreciate it a lot if you'd let me know you're out there, or if you have any suggestions/questions/requests! And thank you thank you thank you to MioMisaki, damons-hot-as-hell, FruityJunior, and especially puutiti for the reviews so far :D**


	8. New Priorities

**A/N: I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long :). Just in case you're interested, I've gone back and posted some author's notes which were originally only included on my yff account. Thanks again for the reviews!**

Chapter 8: New Priorities

...Four years later...

Occasionally, events occur during your lifetime that entirely reorganize your priorities.

This is exactly what happened the moment Takahashi Takahiro found out his parents were dead.

Previously, Takahiro's mind had been consumed by the thrilling promise of self exploration—beginning school at M university and taking interesting, challenging classes, making new friends, gaining independence and freedom, and exploring his newfound feelings for Hiroki.

On that day four years ago, the importance of these things had simply ceased to exist.

It sometimes takes an event of great magnitude for you to really, truly appreciate what the top priority in your life is. For Takahiro, this was the scar that ran the deepest, the one way in which his life had forever, irrevocably been changed. He now knew for sure what his highest priority was—and it was family. Family would irrefutably occupy the top spot for the rest of his life.

Takahiro, while not the most observant or clever person, was kind-hearted, selfless, and dedicated. He had a resilient mind and a clear sense of responsibility, and not once had he resented his decision to forgo university and become the breadwinner in order to raise his younger brother.

Of course, though he had certainly put forth his best effort, he knew his success would have been impossible without the help of Usagi. He had lent Takahiro the money to tide them over until they could move to a smaller place, called in a favor to get him a job, and had never tired of just being there to listen or cheer him up.

Sometimes, Takahiro was so overcome with gratitude that he could do little more than collapse in Usagi's arms and cling to him fiercely, not caring about what behavior was "normal" between young male friends. Usagi's help and support had transcended these boundaries, and placed him on the same level as a brother. He was family.

Even though Takahiro's entire life had been reshuffled, with Usagi's help, it had continued on.

He was surprised to find he actually liked his job, despite its monotony. He found little ways to challenge himself throughout the day, and was humbly pleased when he succeeded in his work. Instead of new friends at school, Takahiro had made friends at the office. He was an affectionate and likeable person, so he bonded quite easily with many kinds of people. In fact, he learned that several of his coworkers were in situations not so different from his own. He had gained independence and freedom, in a way, through his newfound responsibility. And every time he felt sad or alone, his energy and faith in the world was renewed by the strength of his compassionate, determined little brother.

Takahiro was too humble to give himself enough credit for how well he'd handled the situation, but in moments like this—when the house was clean, and there was dinner on the table and money in the bank—he allowed himself to relax a little.

Since Misaki had been old enough to take care of himself, he'd also urged Takahiro to take a night off every once in a while, and go out with his friends. A profound sense of guilt had moved the older brother to protest for a long while, but finally, when Misaki made it clear he wasn't taking no for an answer, he relented. In truth, he had wanted Misaki to think he was fine. He had wanted to set the example that it was ok to move on, and to go out and enjoy the world.

Just over a year ago, Takahiro had accepted an invitation to go out drinking with a few of his friends from work. He was so anxious that he'd excused himself to the bathroom every half hour to call his little brother and check in on him. Misaki had grown quite upset, and insisted that Takahiro not call again.

Too shocked to know what else to do, Takahiro had resolved to do exactly what his younger brother suggested. He would put his all into pretending to have fun, for his brother's sake. And because it had been such a long, long time since he'd casually socialized, he followed the lead of those around him—to drink.

Takahiro was much too responsible to let himself get out of control, but he had to admit that the warm bloom of alcohol in his stomach had made him feel incredible—better than he had in ages. The more he drank, the easier it was to pretend that he was a normal guy, out for a night with his friends.

The more he pretended, the closer it became to the truth.

Takahiro had progressed from a few drinks with his coworkers to barhopping to even a few nights of clubbing. Misaki had been so thrilled the first time his brother came in after midnight, Takahiro had decided that his plan was working.

The fun didn't stop there—in fact, his sad story, combined with his sharp good looks and earnest demeanor, promoted him to a hero-like status and had girls flocking around him. So, as with drinking, Takahiro had gone along with it, trying his best to "have fun."

Takahiro had lost count at this point of the number of girls he'd been with (though none of his coworkers, he was proud to say!), but what really stuck out in his mind were the few times he'd been propositioned by another man.

It didn't happen all the time, but often enough. On one occasion, he'd come close to actually going along with it—he'd been at a club, when a cute, younger man with seductive eyes and inky black hair had twined his arms around Takahiro's neck and drawn him in close, whispering in his ear. A shivery, weird feeling had reawakened in him, and he'd been surprised enough by his body's response to pull away and leave.

In truth, he'd never quite forgotten about Hiroki. He hadn't seen the other boy (well, a man now) since Usagi had moved out of the dreaded manor, but Usagi mentioned him occasionally, and Takahiro had subconsciously been keeping tabs on the fiery teenager as he moved up the ranks in the literature department faster than a bat out of hell. Takahiro still wondered what might have happened if he'd had the luxury of being able to sort through his feelings, all those years ago.

Sensing that he could easily be swept up by them, Takahiro decided that tonight should be one of those nights that he left all his deep thoughts at the door and had a little fun. He'd made too much food for dinner, and Misaki had happily finished his share and then picked up his latest manga obsession, shooing his brother persistently out of the apartment.

Takahiro hadn't had plans in particular, but looking at the extra soup in the pot reminded him of a certain hungry rabbit whom he hadn't visited in a while.

He locked the door behind him, and took off walking in the direction of the train line. He had a good feeling about tonight.

**A/N: Things are pretty exciting for Takahiro from here to the end, if I do say so :) As always, I'd love to hear what you think!**


	9. The Unintentional Reunion

Chapter 9: The Unintentional Reunion

_I shouldn't be bringing pork soup to a place like this, _Takahiro thought to himself as he clutched his homemade tonjiru in one hand and rang the doorbell with the other. He had a key, but good manners had prevented him from ever using it.

To his surprise, the apartment's inhabitant answered immediately.

"Takahiro! Come in!" Usagi ushered, eyes immediately drawn to the bag in Takahiro's hand. He looked exhausted, but pleased to see him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Usagi asked, directing him to the couch.

"I needed a break," Takahiro answered honestly, handing the soup to his friend and stretching before he sat down. "Here, this is for you."

"I can't thank you enough. I haven't eaten in a while," Usagi confessed, accepting the bag and transferring its contents to the fridge before settling down opposite Takahiro and lighting a cigarette.

"Really? Why not?"

"I tend to become easily absorbed by my writing," he answered. "When inspiration struck, I awoke out of a dead sleep sometime last night, and I've been attached to my computer ever since." He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Enough about me—how are you? How's Misaki?"

"He's great," Takahiro said, adoration coloring his voice. "He's so helpful—always does the chores and the cooking. He never asks for anything. I can hardly believe he's only twelve...when did he get so mature?"

"He has a remarkable role model," Usagi answered with a quiet intensity.

Takahiro blushed. "You're too generous, Usagi-chan," he said. "I'm afraid I rely on you more than I should."

"Nonsense," Usagi scoffed. "Not once have you been an imposition. Besides," he continued, gesturing towards the fridge, "I suspect you have taken better care of me than the other way around, recently."

"You deserve a break, too, Usagi-chan," Takahiro suggested. "Hey...come out for a drink with me!"

Usagi looked uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry, my friend. In fact, I'm expecting company, though I'd be able to join you another night when this particular manuscript is completed. I'm trying to make a good first impression by being timely, see."

"Oh, of course," Takahiro assured him. "Who's coming over? Your editor?"

"No, I thought I'd have it proofed once before showing it to them. Actually, do you remember my neighbor, Kamijou Hiroki?"

_Did he remember? Pfft. _"Yes, I remember. He's on his way here, you said?" Takahiro asked, suddenly feeling his stomach clench with anticipation.

Usagi nodded. "He usually gives my work a once-over before anyone else can read it." Usagi smiled, then inclined his head. "Other than you, that is."

The doorbell rang.

"Well, speak of the devil," the young writer said, annoyance flashing across his face. "He's early."

Akihiko rose and had barely unlatched the door when it was thrust the rest of the way open, nearly clipping him on his giant square chin as he jumped back to avoid it. Hiroki breezed inside, not even glancing at Akihiko, and tossing his bag unceremoniously on the couch without noticing it was otherwise occupied. Takahiro gave a little squeak as he narrowly avoided being hit.

"I have your manuscript, loser," Hiroki said, waving a hand towards the couch and making a beeline for the fridge. "You can thank me for this generous service later, as right now you should get busy making the corrections I've indicated. Seriously, were you even conscious when you wrote chapter nine?"

Hiroki opened the door to the fridge and stuck his nose inside. "Wait...why the hell is there food in here?"

Akihiko cleared his throat. "Hiroki, you remember my friend from high school, Takahashi Takahiro?"

Hiroki tensed up and turned around slowly. Takahiro waved a hand in greeting, rising from his place on the couch. "Hello, Hiroki-san. It's been a while."

Panic flashed across Hiroki's face.

"Takahiro, hello! How have you been?" Hiroki said, closing the fridge and suddenly moving closer to the couch, snatching up his bag. "Ah—never mind—dumb question. Sorry. I'm an idiot. I've...yeah. I've got to go."

Akihiko looked confused. "Working on your thesis?"

"Nah, I'm going out drinking," Hiroki said, ruffling his long hair with one hand before crossing his arms uncomfortably over his chest. He had definitely lost weight since Takahiro had last seen him.

"You should just start paying your rent at 'Hanami' instead," Akihiko called after him in a disapproving tone of voice, referencing a popular bar near T University where Hiroki was a regular.

Hiroki was halfway out the door when he stopped short, hand still on the knob, pausing as though trying to remember something he'd forgotten.

"Akihiko, make those corrections to chapter nine, and it should be fine. It was really a brilliant piece," he said, still facing the hallway. He turned abruptly and sought eye contact with Takahiro.

"Takahiro, I wish you all the best," Hiroki said rather formally, with the closest thing to sincerity he could achieve in his voice.

He let the door fall shut behind him.

The silence echoed in the spacious penthouse. "What was all that about?" Akihiko wondered out loud. "I haven't seen him so flustered in a while."

For once, Takahiro was a little ahead of the game. Looking Hiroki in the eye had reminded both of them of their last meeting, outside the gates of the Usami estate. Luckily, since everyone assumed Takahiro didn't quite get it, it was easy to play up to his own stereotype. He shrugged.

"Isn't it as Usagi-chan said a long time ago? That was Hiroki in a good mood, right?"

Akihiko lit another cigarette and laughed, all smiles again. "You're right. Trust me, I've seen him in a bad mood—it gets much, much worse. No less yelling, but more crying."

Takahiro felt saddened by the flippant way Usagi had tossed out that remark. He moved for the door, too.

"I should really be on my way," he said. "I don't want to keep you from your work."

Akihiko was about to protest, but sighed heavily as he glanced at the clamped stack of papers that had spilled out on the couch when Hiroki dumped his bag.

"You're probably right," he said regretfully. He walked Takahiro to the door, then clapped him on the shoulder, his hand lingering. "Thank you again for the soup. Where are you headed?"

"I have to go meet up with someone," Takahiro answered. "I'll see you next week. Lunch, maybe?"

The two waved, and parted.

xxxxxxxxxx

The first bar Takahiro went to, he sat by himself. It seemed his thoughts had followed him out the door tonight after all, so he figured a little alcohol might be nice to keep them both company. He downed the first and the second quickly, then sipped on his following drinks at a slow but steady rate.

Seeing Hiroki after four years had been unsettling—like a moment out of one of Misaki's mangas.

That jittery, weird feeling was back again, except this time, Takahiro had nothing to lose. He finished his drink, took a shot for the road, and stood up, determined. What was the name of the bar that Hiroki was going to? Hanami? Takahiro smiled.

He might not have had the opportunity to explore his feelings all those years ago, but that didn't mean he couldn't get a little closure.

xxxxxxxxxx

Akihiko stared at the screen of his computer through the haze of smoke billowing off the end of his cigarette, his eyes feeling scratchy and dry and his shoulder muscles in excruciating pain.

"Fuck this," he growled to himself, laying his forehead on the crook of his extended arm and thinking of Takahiro's invitation. "I'm never paying attention to a deadline again!"

****xxxxxxxxxx

**A/N: Didn't know what to name the bar, so I picked Hanami (it's the name of the Japanese restaurant in my town, and it refers to the cherry blossom viewing).**

**Hopefully someone laughed at that square chin snipe at Akihiko, because I'm cracking myself up over here.**

**I'd love some reviews :D special thanks again to puutiti and damns-hot-as-hell!**


	10. The Botched Confession

**You know what? I'm feeling cheerful today...how about I post the next two chapters? :D**

Chapter 10: The Botched Confession

Takahiro entered Hanami, and sure enough, spotted Hiroki right away sitting at the bar, a whisky neat in one hand, intently reading the book that was propped up in his other hand by his long fingers.

"Hiroki-san!" he called out as he approached him.

"Takahiro?" Hiroki asked incredulously as he was jerked back from the land of literature by the last voice he had expected to hear tonight.

"How...wait, are you reading a book? At a bar?" Takahiro asked in surprise, stopping right in front of him.

"Well done, Sherlock," Hiroki said, then mentally slapped himself, repeating his old mantra _play nice, play nice, play nice_ in his head. He tried again. "Oh yes, I'm...er... just reading a translation of 'Hound of the Baskervilles' for a class I'm taking." His attempt at a save was lost on Takahiro, who hadn't caught the reference to begin with. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you," Takahiro said politely. "If you're alone, would you mind if I sit?"

"Oh, err..." Hiroki said, uncomfortably glancing at the full glass on the other side of him and the folded coat over the top of the chair that Takahiro hadn't noticed. "Sure, why not."

Takahiro sat down and braced himself for what he was about to say, feeling the pulse of the alcohol coursing through his veins.

"So, what a coincidence running into you here," Hiroki said, making an awkward, generic stab at conversation while Takahiro remained uncharacteristically silent.

"No, it's not," Takahiro replied.

"Come again?"

"No, it's not a coincidence," Takahiro repeated, then turned to Hiroki, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt. "Hiroki-san, I think I'm in love with you!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Hiroki struggled to keep from shouting, jumping back as though he had been electrocuted, an expression of utter horror on his face as he looked at Takahiro's fist clenched in his shirt fabric. "What the hell... are you drunk?"

"Is everything alright?" a new voice asked. A tall, neatly dressed blond man had stepped up behind Hiroki, settling a protective hand on the back of his chair.

"Everything's fine, Shinoda," Hiroki insisted. "I just ran into an old friend of mine. Let me walk him out, he's had a little too much to drink."

Shinoda shrugged, knowing Hiroki could more than handle himself. He sat back down and picked up his glass. "Take your time. I'll be here."

Hiroki quickly rose and steered Takahiro out of the restaurant and onto the street, pausing underneath a street lamp and peering intently at the other man's face.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked.

"A lot," Takahiro answered honestly.

Hiroki nodded. "Want me to call Akihiko to pick you up?"

The world was swimming before Takahiro's eyes, but he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the tears that were now welling up. He thought of how much he relied on Usagi, and how ashamed he would be to call on his best friend for anything else, especially a situation like this. He shook his head. "No."

Hiroki sighed. "Look kid, go home, ok? Chug a glass of water and two aspirin before you go to bed. Works for me every time. Are you ok to take the train? Or do you want me to call you a cab?"

"No, I'll manage," Takahiro said quietly. "Thanks, Hiroki-san."

They parted ways, and Hiroki watched Takahiro with concern as he walked down the street before shivering and returning inside. It was cold out.


	11. The Unrequited Love Triangle

Chapter 11: The Unrequited Love Triangle

Shinoda had had the foresight to order Hiroki another drink, which was waiting for him on the bar as Hiroki settled down again.

"Who on earth was that?" he asked.

"A friend," Hiroki answered, picking up his drink.

"You don't have any friends."

"Fine, a friend of a friend," Hiroki growled. "And I resent that statement. I'm very popular."

Shinoda chuckled. "So, that guy's in love with you, eh?"

"Ha!" Hiroki barked. "As if! I don't have time for two beer queers."

_Two beer queer?_ Shinoda frowned. He actually hadn't come up in time to hear Takahiro's botched love confession, but he had seen the expression on his face when he grabbed Hiroki's shirt—it was the same one Hiroki wore every day when sitting on the rail, religiously waiting for that "childhood friend" of his.

"How do you know him, anyways?" he asked, curious.

"He's the one my childhood friend is in love with," Hiroki admitted. "Not that he has any idea."

"Wait, let me get this straight," Shinoda said. "You're in love with your childhood friend, who has no idea how you feel. And he's in love with that guy who just left, who has no idea how _he_ feels?" _And that guy's in love with you, and you obviously have no idea either?_

"To put it succinctly."

Shinoda burst out laughing.

"Ohhh baby," he laughed, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

"What?" Hiroki snapped.

"...Nothing," Shinoda said between laughs, wiping tears from his eyes. He kept laughing, clutching a stitch in his side. He would have spelled it out for the other man, but Hiroki kept forgetting they'd had that conversation about his childhood friend every time he got drunk. Plus the irony was just too delicious to share.

"Fuck you," Hiroki spat.

"Are you offering?"

Hiroki blushed and knocked the remainder of his drink back in one smooth gulp.

"Let's get out of here," he growled.

**I wanted **_**someone**_** to realize the irony of this whole unrequited love triangle, so I made it Shinoda (because he's a dick and I adore him, but he's also very perceptive).**

**If you were paying attention in the beginning, you might remember that I said chapters 12 and 13 were my favorites...so come on now, reviews and I'll post them both at once ;)**

**As you may have already suspected, Takahiro's night is far from over...stay tuned!**


	12. The Midnight Adventure

Chapter 12: The Midnight Adventure

Takahiro was getting cold wandering around, but for once he had absolutely no desire to go home yet, and the chilly walk had sobered him up a little. He saw the flickering neon sign for a small bar to the right, so he ducked inside. His eyes didn't take long to adjust, and he unsteadily made his way to the nearly empty bar and sat down. He unbuttoned his coat and settled it over the back of his chair, then leaned his elbows on the counter and propped his chin on the heel of his hand, sighing heavily.

"Oi, wench," he heard a gruff voice belonging the bar's only other patron saying, "this glass is looking dangerously empty."

Takahiro's head snapped around. For a second, he had thought it was Hiroki's voice, but a quick glance was enough to ascertain that this guy looked nothing like Hiroki—he was much taller, with broad shoulders, shaggy black hair, and stormy gray eyes that were peering forlornly into the bottom of his empty sake glass.

"I'm coming, baby," the bartender answered. "But don't you think you've had enough? Look, you're tie's all crooked." She reached across the counter to straighten the amazingly ugly striped tie that was indeed a little askew.

"Spare me the alcoholics anonymous meeting," the man grumbled, knocking her hand away. "That was only my second drink, and I need to occupy myself somehow until you get off work."

"Oh, are you two together?" Takahiro interrupted cheerfully. He needed a good conversation to get his mind off everything.

The man and the bartender turned to stare at him, expressions dumbfounded. The bartender was first to recover, and she laughed.

"Believe me, I've tried," she said dejectedly, hanging her head, "but it's impossible." She leaned closer and cupped a hand. "_He's gay_!" she stage whispered.

"I'm NOT GAY, WOMAN!" the man protested hotly, glaring at her.

"Right, right," she retorted. "Just hopelessly in love with a MAN!"

The man blushed crimson. "Just because I'm in love with a man doesn't make me gay. It makes me...it makes me in love with a man. I've had girlfriends, you know. Girls love me, for your information. I'm just not in the mood right now."

The arguing non-couple had forgotten about the other man at the bar, but turned to stare at him again when they heard him gasp.

"Do you really believe that?" Takahiro asked, kicking his chair out from behind him and moving to sit in the seat directly next to the man with the unsightly tie. His eyes grew big and pleading and he stared at the man eagerly. The prolific amount of alcohol he had consumed, compounded with his naturally friendly personality, had created a monster.

The man in the suit and the bartender took one look at the desperate, hopeful expression on the bar guest's face and both sighed simultaneously. They caught each other's eye, and the woman wordlessly reached into the freezer and pulled out a Sapporo, uncapping it and setting it down on a coaster in front of Takahiro.

"This round's on me, baby," she said.

"Thanks! I'm Takahashi Takahiro, by the way," Takahiro introduced.

"I'm Aikawa Eri, and this is Yokozawa Takafumi," she answered, indicating the man Takahiro was seated next to. She winked at him. "Hey, Takahashi-san, you're pretty cute."

The man named Yokozawa barked a laugh. "Don't let her fool you!" he said. "She's a devil in women's clothing. She's just pumping you up for a tip!"

"When have I ever done that?" Aikawa protested, pretending to sound offended.

"Like, every night."

"I need the money," she said unapologetically. "I won't be here for much longer anyways! I just sent my resume to Marukawa. The job market is improving every day, you know."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure a controlling, heartless bitch is just what they're looking for," Yokozawa said sarcastically.

"Oh, hush," Aikawa scolded. "You never know. And when I get the job, you know I'll pull the strings to get your sorry ass an unpaid internship or something. Maybe they're in need of a pissy, tsundere cat lady!"

Yokozawa snorted at that. "Some repayment for all the money I give you."

Takahiro chose not to comment on their banter, which he found both highly amusing and a little horrifying at the same time.

"So, what's the deal with this man you're in love with?" he asked Yokozawa, turning back to their previous conversation.

Yokozawa looked unwilling to answer (to put it mildly), but Aikawa hit him on the shoulder.

"If you don't help him, I'm cutting you off for real," she hissed under her breath.

"Fine," he growled in acquiescence, "to make a long story short, I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me back. Cue sad violin music." In truth, he was a few glasses of sake in, otherwise he wouldn't have even confessed this much to a total stranger. Yokozawa vowed to not make a habit of it.

"How awful!" Takahiro exclaimed, sloshing his beer a bit as he lowered it from his mouth. "Does he know how you feel?"

"I should hope he got the message when I was fucking him."

"Oh!" Takahiro said. "If you had sex, it sounds like he likes you, then?"

"...No, I think not," Yokozawa said, and even though Takahiro was drunk, and not particularly perceptive, the tone of the other man's voice was enough for him to realize that was the final word on this issue.

"Ok sweetie, your turn," Aikawa said.

"Eh? Me?" Takahiro asked in surprise, pointing to himself. "Is it that obvious?"

Aikawa and Yokozawa both face-palmed this time.

"Well, there's this guy," Takahiro launched into his story, "I've known him for years...friend of a friend... and for some reason, I've always been attracted to him." He took another gulp of beer. "But he's in love with someone else, I think," he explained.

"A girl?" Aikawa asked.

"No, another man."

"You might have a chance then," Aikawa offered, "does he know you like him?"

"I tried to tell him tonight, but he didn't believe me," Takahiro said sadly.

"You should have kissed him!" she squealed.

"Fangirl pervert," Yokozawa muttered.

"Oh, no," Takahiro's eyes had grown wide. "I've never kissed a man before."

"Have you ever kissed _anyone_?" Yokozawa asked pointedly.

"Sure I have," Takahiro answered. "Lots of girls. That's why I think I don't mind both, see? That's ok, right?"

"It's ok to be however you want," Aikawa said kindly. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't drunkenly hook up with my college roommate one night, and to tell the whole truth, I actually enjoyed it. But it was a one-time thing for me. I just love cock too much."

Takahiro and Yokozawa had both just taken of a sip of their drinks, and simultaneously started choking.

Aikawa looked off in the distance, lost in fond memories. She shook herself out of it and glanced at the clock behind her.

"Ok boys, I've got to close up shop," she said. Takahiro immediately rose from his chair and nearly keeled over on his unsteady legs, but Yokozawa grabbed him by the elbow.

"I'll walk you to the taxi stand," he said gruffly, shrugging on his coat.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Takahiro protested, not wanting to be an inconvenience.

"It's ok," Yokozawa answered wryly. "I'm used to babysitting drunk idiots." He opened his wallet and left enough cash on the counter to cover both of their drinks, and then some. "Eri, I'll be right back."

xxxxxxxx

The two stepped out into the cold night air, hugging their jackets around them and glad that the blooming warmth of alcohol in their stomachs helped stave off the chill. They walked in silence down the block, in the direction of the late night taxi stand. Takahiro was a little glad for the company, to be honest, as he was weaving a bit. Yokozawa didn't insult his dignity by manhandling him, but instead waited patiently for Takahiro to steady himself and catch up.

They were just around the corner from the stand when Yokozawa suddenly grabbed his elbow again, though this time he hadn't tripped.

"Wait," Yokozawa said, then unexpectedly reached out and grasped Takahiro's chin, his fingers curled up under it. Takahiro stopped in place obediently. Yokozawa slid the pad of his thumb, tracing the outline of the man's jaw, stopping to rest it gently on the point just below where his jawbone ended, wrapping his long fingers around the back of Takahiro's neck.

"Close your eyes," Yokozawa said, "and just for a moment, pretend I'm the one you love."

Takahiro closed his eyes and felt the other man lean in and ghost his lips against his own, only a light touch, waiting. Takahiro swallowed hard and pressed forward until they were properly kissing. He felt a gentle tongue petition his mouth and opened slightly to let it inside, relishing the feeling when it finally met his own.

After a few moments, Yokozawa pulled back. "Now you can decide for yourself what you prefer," he said, then turned and rounded the corner to hail a taxi.

xxxxxxx

**Apparently it's canon that Yokozawa and Aikawa are drinking buddies (I think Aikawa posted this on the Marukawa twitter?) I really loved this idea, so I decided to run with it. I bartended my way through college and some of my bar guests ended up being my best friends.**

**A lot of people compare Yokozawa and Hiroki, as they both portray the tsundere archetypes, but take a closer look at their reactions to drunk Takahiro in these chapters, and I think it should tell you something about the real difference between them.**


	13. After Hours

Chapter 13: After Hours

Yokozawa stepped back into the warm, dimly lit bar. While he had been gone, Aikawa had finished liquor inventory and wiped down the counter. She was now putting the chairs upside down on the bar, but had left one down for Yokozawa.

"Give me five minutes," she said, "I'm going to go cash out."

Yokozawa nodded and sat down in his appointed chair, leaning over the counter to retrieve his briefcase from where Aikawa had stashed it earlier. She appeared exactly five minutes later (always punctual), buttoning her pea coat and flipping her hair out over her shoulder. Yokozawa stood and put up the chair for her.

"What a sweet kid," Aikawa commented. "Not very bright though."

Yokozawa snorted. "A couple rolls short of a bento, you might say."

"He had no idea this is a gay bar, did he."

"Not a dick damn clue. I don't even think he knew this is the gay district."

Aikawa laughed heartily. "What do you say, should we start drinking? You've got a nice head start but I think I can catch up. First to get a guy's number buys the next round."

"You're the _only_ one getting _anybody's_ number tonight," Yokozawa grumbled, flipping up the collar on his coat against the bite of the cold air as they stepped out the door and into the night.

"Only because you terrify all your prospects. I'd feel safer propositioning a grizzly bear."

Yokozawa rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette.

"You know, Yokozawa-chan," Aikawa said, unexpectedly switching to a more tender tone of voice, "someday you're going to find someone who appreciates you just the way you are. I'm sure of it." And standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek.

"Why don't you fuck off and die a hundred times over," Yokozawa said, taking her arm to let her know he didn't mean it. "Let's drink."

**Aikawa **_**would**_** be a bartender at a gay bar. That's all I have to say about that.**

**Next chapter is the last, friends.**


	14. The Face of Opportunity

Chapter 14: The Face of Opportunity

Takahiro was on a mission.

As he strode through the doors of Marimo Bookstore, he felt refreshed, better than he had in ages, a spring in his step as he unwound his scarf from his neck. He planned to stay a while and indulge in perusing, having allotted himself one Misaki-free day of revisiting his favorite old spots in Tokyo to clear his mind.

He had woken up the previous morning with the taste of cigarettes in his mouth and a terrible hangover (he had played it off as a stomach bug in front of Misaki) and vowed to turn over a new leaf in his life...not just to act happy for the sake of his little brother, but to truly _be_ happy. He was tired of denying himself things because he was intimidated by the possibilities, and tired of justifying this behavior in his head with the same old excuses about responsibility.

When he looked in the mirror that morning, he resolved that it really didn't matter to him who or what form opportunity resembled when it next presented itself...he was going to take it. He wasn't sure exactly where to begin, but he figured he might as well visit one of his old favorite hangouts and browse through some books on the topic. His only reading material as of late had been Usagi's manuscripts, which were getting kind of dark, if he was being honest.

It was quiet in the store because he had gotten there early in the morning, so he glanced around to see if anyone was looking and promptly lowered himself to sit cross legged on the floor, head tilted to the side as he scanned the titles on the bottom shelf.

"Excuse me, do you need any help?"

Takahiro jumped to his feet and turned around, coming face to face with a petite, pretty woman with soft brown wavy hair and large hazel eyes.

"Oh, hello! I didn't see you there!" Takahiro said, adjusting his glasses self consciously, which had been knocked askew in his haste to rise. "Why, what makes you think I need help?"

"Well, I work here, so I usually say that to everyone," the woman said, pointing to the button with her name on it attached to the front of her apron. Takahiro hadn't noticed it at first (some things never change), but he now peered closer and read her name, _Kajiwara Manami_.

"Plus, you're sitting in front of the 'self help' section," she added.

Takahiro subconsciously winced when he heard the dry humor behind her words, as he had also vowed to steer clear of sarcasm for a while (it just went _way_ over his head.) However, when he looked down at her, she gave him a beautiful smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. When he tentatively smiled back, she giggled.

"So I am," he admitted sheepishly.

"Is there anything I can help you with, then?" she repeated.

"Oh no, I'll be fi—actually, I changed my mind. Have coffee with me when your shift is done," he said spontaneously.

"My shift's not over for a while," she answered, looking surprised. "Plus, how could I ever get coffee with a complete stranger?"

Takahiro's shoulders slumped.

"Hmm...I have another idea," she said, putting on a pensive face. "If you stay here and talk to me for a while, we might kill two birds with one stone."

"Really?" Takahiro asked, delighted.

"Well, I'd only be doing my job, after all," she said, giggling again to show him she was teasing.

"I should buy a book, then," Takahiro replied. "What would you recommend?"

"Why don't you tell me what you're interested in?" she said.

And the two spent the morning smiling and chatting, strolling through the aisles of the bookstore.

**A/N: A fluffy, happy ending for our gentle, unassuming protagonist. I think he deserved a break, no? :D**

**One of the few things we do know about Takahiro is that he loves reading. (Remember, he met Akihiko by reading the stories he had written on the desk?) So, I decided that a little twist on the Erotica setup would be appropriate here.**

**We don't know much about Manami, but I decided to give her a kind, teasing personality. I've gone and made poor Takahiro attracted to a sarcastic sense of humor, but I think this will suit him much better than someone like Hiroki, who's very different (read: raging bitch. Not that I don't love and cherish him.)**

**Well I hope you enjoyed hearing from me as much as I enjoyed hearing from you. **

**Until next time, friends! **

**ika**

**p.s... what are you in the mood for next? A crossover crackfic or a pseudo-trifecta oneshot? I've written both already, so let me know if you have an opinion :D my days left with internet are limited, so sorry if it seems like I'm overwhelming you with stories.**


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